Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Merlin threw his keys on the table in the hallway then himself down onto his sofa with a grunt, just happy to be off his feet. Fridays were always busy and he was almost glad not to have plans to go out and make his feet ache even more by dancing in a sweaty club all night with the hope of a quick fumble and waking up in a stranger’s bed. Almost. The alternative was a night spent watching repeats of Corrie. 

Merlin sent another text to Gwaine, asking if he was sure he would rather be flying back out  tonight to visit his sister and niece instead of having a night out with Merlin, receiving nothing but a string of middle finger emojis. Freya didn’t even answer her text, rarely did when she was with her girlfriend. 

Sighing, Merlin opened Grindr on his phone and scrolled aimlessly for a while, swiping to match anyone with a decent looking dick or a nice enough face (if they included their face at all). Merlin wasn’t too fussy. 

A message pinged through twenty minutes later while Merlin was leaning on the kitchen counter waiting for the kettle to boil.

~BadDragon: Are you free tonight? 10:00 onwards. 

Merlin raised an eyebrow at the bluntness of the message, though he was used to that by now. He brought up the guy’s profile again to read his bio while he poured his tea, rather than just looking at the mouth-watering photos of tanned abs dusted with golden hair and impressive dick. It read:

• Athletic top

• Straight-acting, prefer same. 

• Clean, no barebacking. 

• Only your place or hotel, will pay. 

• No real names. 

Merlin rolled his eyes at the actual bullet points, but it didn’t say anything he hadn’t seen numerous times, and he was fairly sure the photos were legit. 

~MagicHandsEm: Yes, free tonight and can host. What do u fancy?? Any hard nos?

~BadDragon: 10:30? I don’t give oral. 

~MagicHandsEm: See u at 10:30 gorgeous. I’ll be prepped and waiting for ur big dick. Can’t wait to feel u inside me. 

Merlin typed the last two sentences and the accompanying tongue and ‘hot’ emojis with one hand mid-sip of tea before sending the postcode and flat number. He sent out texts to Gwen, Freya, Will, and Gwaine anyway to say he would keep them updated but he was inviting someone round tonight. 

As he went through to the bathroom to shower, Merlin’s phone pinged again. 

~BadDragon: send me a photo of your cock. 

~MagicHandsEm: Can’t wait? Naughty boy. I love it when men are gagging for me. 

Merlin turned on the shower, threw his t-shirt, jeans, and boxers at the laundry basket and lightly stroked his cock until he was hard. His phone clock read 20:27—plenty of time for a warm-up wank and to still be raring to go for his guest in a couple of hours. He took several photos, wondering for the thousandth time why he didn’t just keep some saved for times like this, and sent the best three angles. 

~BadDragon: Nice. 

~MagicHandsEm: That all u have to say??

~BadDragon: It’s nice. I’ll see it later and enjoy it properly then. 

~MagicHandsEm: Yes u will. Try not to get too excited ;) 

‘BadDragon’ did not reply, so Merlin got in the shower, lathering himself up with bubbles before sliding his hand down his chest—making sure not to neglect his already stiff nipples—and wrapping a slippery hand around his hard-on. He stroked slowly, thinking of the pictures on his hook-up’s profile: those prominent pecs, the way his cock curved just a little. Merlin imagined how that would feel inside him, how the angle would help to hit his prostate on every thrust. Slipping a finger inside himself, then another, Merlin found his rhythm. He let himself moan the way he wanted to, echoing off the shower tiles and turning him on even more. He sped up his strokes and came up his stomach where it mingled with the coconut scented soap bubbles that still clung to his heated, wet skin. Merlin smiled smugly to himself as he washed his hands, washed his hair, enjoying the feel of his palms on his own body in the afterglow of his orgasm. 

Merlin ran the soap between his pert arse cheeks, giving them a squeeze just because, pleased with himself. Not bothering to dry off properly he went through to his bedroom, setting his bottle of the good lube and a handful of condoms on the nightstand within easy reach before kneeling on the bed, slicking his fingers again and sliding them back into himself, making quieter, but no less pleased noises. His cock twitched, thinking about renewing its interest but Merlin ignored that for now, focusing on the movement of his fingers. In no hurry, Merlin scissored them apart, relishing the stretch. He ended up with his face pressed into his own mattress, three fingers deep and massaging his own prostate. Merlin only stopped when he caught sight of the display of his alarm clock reading 21:45, scrambling off the bed to go and decide what to wear before his match arrived.

He settled on the black silk briefs Gwaine once bought him as a joke, that had ended up looking so good they were his favourite pair to wear when he was confident someone would see them. Pulling black skinny jeans up over them, he looked at his shirts, deciding on the mesh crop top he’d planned on wearing if he’d gone out tonight. Acting straight—whatever that meant—he could do. Looking straight had never been his forte. He smiled to himself at the thought as he sat in front of his vanity mirror to style his hair—artfully mussed, he told himself—and to apply glittery eyeliner and shiny lip gloss. 

Merlin couldn’t resist taking a few selfies, making sure to get in his flat, exposed stomach and the pout he had perfected. He sent them to his grindr match with emojis of peaches and water drops, hoping his meaning of being lubed and ready came across. 

He didn’t have to wait long before the intercom buzzed. “Come on up,” he said into the receiver as he pressed the door unlock button, feeling nerves fluttering in his stomach in the best way. He tried not to hover by the door to his flat, glad when the knock came. 

Merlin opened his door to the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen. 

He only realised he’d been standing staring at angular cheekbones, a strong jaw, plush lips, a slightly crooked nose, and sea-blue eyes, when the man cleared his throat. Merlin hurriedly stepped aside to let him in. “Hi. Do you uh—want a drink or anything?”

“No. Thank you.” The man’s voice was plummy, posh, and it sent heat straight to Merlin’s cock. 

“What should I call you? Em works fine for me.” 

“Em,” he nodded. “Call me Dragon.” 

Merli n huffed a laugh at that. “Your bio did say no real names, to be fair,” he grinned. Dragon didn’t look amused as he hung his expensive-looking suit jacket on the hook. “Do you kiss?” Merlin asked as he led his guest through to the bedroom without preamble. He got his answer when Dragon caught him with an arm around his waist and pulled him in for a harsh kiss, tasting of the cigarette he had clearly smoked before coming in and the mint he had tried to mask it with. Merlin gave back as good as he was given, nipping Dragon’s bottom lip and feeling his lip gloss smearing between them both. When Dragon pulled back there was a slight sheen to his lips and around his mouth. Merlin wasted no time in dragging him back in to kiss it off again, roughly pressing his tongue into Dragon’s mouth for good measure. He groaned when Dragon sucked on it, clearly not shy. 

As they kissed, biting and harsh, Merlin unbuttoned Dragon’s pristine white shirt, but not before running his hand over where it clung perfectly to his broad chest, the semi he’d been sporting since he opened the door fully hard now. “You’re so fucking hot,” he murmured as he pushed the shirt off Dragon’s shoulders. Dragon didn’t answer immediately, instead sliding his hand underneath Merlin’s mesh top to pinch and tug at one of his nipples. 

“What did you think you were doing? Sending those perfect photos, showing me that cocksucking pout and your wicked little body when I wasn’t there to get my hands on you?” Dragon pinched Merlin’s nipple again, harder, drawing a moan from Merlin whose mouth was against his neck, nipping and licking. When Merlin got low enough down he latched on, sucking a livid mark into Dragon’s collarbone where it would be hidden by his clothes. Dragon hissed at the sensation, pushing Merlin backwards onto the bed, hands going straight to the button on Merlin’s jeans. “You’d better have meant what you said, about being ready. I need you now.” 

“Oh, I’m ready,” Merlin hummed, looking up through mascara-lengthened lashes as he wriggled the jeans off his hips to lie there in the satin briefs, tenting them already with his erection. Dragon’s eyes widened ever so slightly; Merlin would never have noticed if he wasn’t studying his face so intently. He pulled the elastic down enough so his cock was freed, waiting for Dragon to take them off him. Dragon wasted no time, leaning down and sucking a matching mark into Merlin’s lower stomach before all but yanking his underwear down and off so Merlin lay before him, almost naked. 

“Spread your legs,” he commanded. Merlin got the impression he wasn’t even aware he did it, and was more than happy to oblige, arranging himself invitingly while Dragon quickly rid himself of his starched suit trousers and sleek white Calvin Klein boxers. Merlin felt the tiniest pang of disappointment he hadn’t had any time to appreciate this god of a man in his Calvins, but soon forgot about it when Dragon knelt above him, that glorious cock standing to attention, flushed a dark red and the curve more pronounced with how hard Dragon was. It was bigger in person too, thick and perfect. Merlin needed it inside him. He rolled onto his front, canting his hips, offering up his arse which he knew looked delicious. 

Dragon made a ragged, broken noise and Merlin felt two fingers slip inside him with little difficulty, checking he was stretched. He moved back onto them because though they weren’t the dick he’d be dreaming of for weeks, they were something. Dragon pulled them out unceremoniously and Merlin heard him move to grab a condom, heard the tearing of the packet. Merlin felt cool wetness drip down the cleft of his arse before those fingers were back inside him, spreading the extra lube. He made an encouraging noise and there was nothing for a moment other than Merlin listening to the wet sounds of Dragon lubing up his cock. “Ready?” his voice came rough, Merlin feeling the head of Dragon’s cock pressing against his stretched hole. 

“Fucking do it,” he gritted out, could hardly stand the anticipation. Dragon clearly wanted it just as badly, pressing into him in one smooth movement. Merlin groaned, blissed out. He didn’t have a second to savour it though, before Dragon was moving—long, languid thrusts almost all the way out and back in. Merlin felt so full with every movement in, pushed back on each one.

“Fuck, yes. Ngh,” he groaned when Dragon changed his angle the slightest bit so he was hitting Merlin’s sweet spot with every movement. “Don’t stop. Don’t you dare,” he gasped, his own cock already leaking. 

“Not going to,” Dragon groaned as he took hold of Merlin’s hips to anchor himself, thrusting even deeper, which Merlin hadn’t thought possible. “Not gonna last,” Dragon panted, after what could have been a minute, could have been an hour; riding the wave of pleasure, Merlin didn’t keep track of the time. 

“Take me.” 

Dragon made another ragged moan at that, moving his hands from Merlin’s hips to bunch in the mesh top he wore and hadn’t bothered to take off, leaning low over his back so their sweat-slicked bodies were pressed flush. Dragon’s panting breath tickled Merlin’s ear when he wasn’t pressing frantic, open-mouthed kisses to his neck and the side of his face. Neither of them spoke; the only sound was the obscene slap of wet skin as Dragon pounded into Merlin. 

It felt like hours and no time at all before Dragon’s thrusts were shallower, more erratic. “Gonna come,” he grunted in Merlin’s ear. “Where do you want it?” 

“ Oh,” Merlin groaned. “Fuck. Come on my tits.” 

“ Shit,” Dragon pulled out then, Merlin willing his limbs into some semblance of movement to kneel on the floor, Dragon moving to sit on the edge of the bed. Merlin stared as Dragon pumped his cock, slick with lube and the head glistening with precome. Belatedly he remembered to pull up his shirt, not a second too soon as Dragon groaned, long and low, spilling himself over Merlin’s chest. Merlin moaned as he felt the heat of Dragon’s come, always loved this. 

He threw off his shirt behind him, gave Dragon a few seconds to catch his breath before he straddled him where he sat, dragging his face to kiss deep and unco-ordinated. Dragon let himself be kissed until he came back to himself, bodily moving Merlin to sit on the edge of the bed while he slid to kneel before him, wasting no time in licking and nipping Merlin’s thighs, his intent clear. “Can I suck you?” he asked anyway, looking up at Merlin flushed and gorgeous, lips already red and swollen from their kisses. 

“ Yes but … I thought you said—your profile said—”

“I lied.” Dragon didn’t wait for a response before those debauched lips were around the head of Merlin’s cock. Merlin groaned, hips thrusting forward almost on reflex.

“Oh god, s-sorry,” he all but whined, but Dragon didn’t protest, took his cock deep and sucked hard, hollowing his cheeks. Already close, Merlin keened as he fought with the wet heat of Dragon’s mouth to keep himself back from the edge. “I’m—” He gently tugged Dragon’s golden hair to warn him. Dragon let Merlin’s cock slide from his mouth until he just had the head between his lips. He teased the slit with his tongue, tasting, before taking him down again. Merlin was helpless to it this time as he came hard, Dragon swallowing everything except one droplet that escaped onto his bottom lip. 

Merlin took a moment just to take the sight in as Dragon pulled back from his softening cock. Merlin threw himself backwards to lie on the bed, pleasantly sore and Dragon’s come cooling on his chest.

Dragon gathered up his clothes, dressed hurriedly with his back to Merlin. “Thanks,” was all he said before he left. Merlin caught one last glimpse of his toned shoulders before the door shut, used to how hook-ups usually worked. 

Merlin was yet again not out clubbing the following Friday night, having agreed to go for dinner and a couple of drinks with Gwen to meet her new boyfriend. They’d been official for two months now. He put on the same nice pair of skinny jeans, then opted for a button up shirt in a deep forest green this time, figuring he should at least look respectable for Gwen’s squeeze. 

He found them a table in the pub, looking up when he heard Gwen calling his name.

“Hi babe!” she breezed when they were close enough. “This is Arthur, my boyfriend.” Gwen introduced the blonde man who stood at her side before she leaned in and hugged Merlin like always. Over her shoulder, Merlin couldn’t miss the look of dawning horror on the handsome face of last week’s one night stand.

Chapter Text

Merlin took the seat Gwen gestured at when she stepped back from their embrace, kissed Dragon— Arthur’s— cheek, and headed to the bar to get them drinks. “Not a word, ” Arthur hissed over the table. Merlin raised an eyebrow, and was about to reply when Arthur’s mobile rang. He answered it quickly, not as subtle as he clearly hoped he was to avoid conversation with Merlin. “Arthur Pendragon,” he said by way of greeting to whoever was on the other end of the line.

“Thank god for that,” Merlin said lightly, once he’d ended the call. “Given your username I was afraid you’d turn up at my door with gigantic, improbable dildos.”

“ Excuse me? And don’t mention my—” he lowered his voice to a harsh whisper, “my username.”  

“Have you never heard of Bad Dragon before?” Merlin’s voice was incredulous. 

“ No, I most certainly have not.” 

“Google it.” Merlin grinned, watching Arthur’s phone screen on the table. He burst out laughing at the noise Arthur made, his cheeks flaming red—which was no less attractive for him being fully dressed and in public. “I thought it was funny,” Merlin shrugged, which seemed to mollify Arthur a little, the deep red blush fading to pink. 

“Still,” Arthur said, clearing his throat. “The other night was—it shouldn’t have happened. It certainly won’t happen again.” 

“Fine by me. It isn’t like there’s a shortage of repressed closet cases desperate for a cute twink,” Merlin laughed, only half-joking. Arthur’s flush darkened again, which gratified Merlin. 

Arthur didn’t get a chance to reply, Gwen returning at that moment with their drinks. “I hope you’re playing nice,” she warned, with a pointed look at Merlin who held up his hands in surrender. 

“Of course I am! I’ve been nothing but lovely to Arthur.” 

Gwen pursed her lips, unconvinced. “Well, he seems in one piece at least,” she conceded as she sat down next to Arthur.

“Hasn’t Gwen told you?” Merlin asked. “I’m terrifying.” He grinned, Arthur giving him a weak smile back. 

“I like this one, Gwen,” Merlin told her half an hour later after a heated debate over what the superior sauce choice was for a kebab—Merlin was team garlic, Arthur team chilli, Gwen refusing to get involved in what she called ‘dick measuring contests’, which made Arthur choke on his pint. “Sure he’s not gay?” He knew he was pressing Arthur’s buttons, knew it would make Arthur uncomfortable; was counting on it. 

“ I’m sure, thank you,” Arthur cut in before Gwen could answer with another joke. Merlin pulled a face, knowing if Gwen saw it she’d think he was just annoyed at Arthur’s vehemence. He should have told her. He should save her from getting in any deeper, and let her know what her newest squeeze was up to before she got too attached. 

The thing was, if he told Gwen, she’d dump Arthur and Merlin would never see him again. It was a purely selfish thought and Merlin hated himself a little bit for it, but he wanted to gaze at that jawline, that perfectly imperfect nose, those deep blue eyes for just a little while longer. Merlin had told the truth, too, about liking him. As long as the jokes didn’t veer too close to sexuality, Arthur gave as good as he got, insulting Merlin with the air of a prince— which seemed to come worryingly naturally. 

“You watch, he’ll have us calling him ‘sire’ and ‘my lord’ soon, the posh git,” Merlin giggled, three drinks later, after Arthur had asked the waitress in the accent Merlin had enjoyed so much in the bedroom, if she ‘wouldn’t mind terribly closing the window’. It earned him a swat on the back of his head, over-familiar.

“Just because you have no manners, Mer lin.” The way Arthur said his name, teasing and emphatic, made Merlin’s cock twitch in his jeans. But not telling his best friend that her boyfriend was on Grindr was bad enough; Merlin was not entertaining that for a single second. 

Well, apart from when he was in the shower. Or lying in bed. Alone. 

It didn’t matter anyway; now that he had been caught, there was no way Arthur was going to even give Merlin a second glance. Especially considering the way his eyes seemed fixed on Gwen, only looking at Merlin when they spoke, when absolutely necessary, despite their easy banter. 

“Well,” Gwen said with a yawn when her phone clock read 22:00. “This is the latest I’ve stayed out on a weeknight in ages. I need a shower and I need bed. You boys have fun; Merlin, don’t keep him up too late, he has important financial decisions to make in the morning. Or whatever it is he does at his office.” She kissed Arthur’s cheek again, then Merlin’s. “I’m glad you’re getting on so well,” she beamed before breezing out to catch the last bus. 

The silence that followed was a heavy one. 

“Another drink?” Merlin asked genially, just to fill it. Arthur nodded, still saying nothing. Merlin went up to the bar without a word, taking those few minutes to give himself a talking-to. He was perfectly capable of being friendly, even if they had slept together. Even if Arthur was like his wettest dream come true. After all, Gwaine was one of his best friends, and god only knew how many times they’d ended up in bed.

Feeling on more solid footing, Merlin took their drinks back to the table Arthur still sat at. “Anything nice planned with Gwen for the weekend?” he asked, feeling like that was a safe enough topic of conversation, though the slightly pained expression that flitted briefly across Arthur’s face told Merlin otherwise. 

“No. Nothing yet,” Arthur replied, valiantly trying to be polite rather than ignoring Merlin. 

Merlin didn’t exactly apologise, but he took some pity and changed the subject. 

“Important financial decisions, eh?” Merlin grinned, recalling Gwen’s words. “What do you do for work then?” He didn’t think he was imagining Arthur’s grateful look. 

“I’m one of the finance managers in my father’s company. I oversee the accounts for three departments. It really isn’t as interesting as it sounds.” 

“Yes, it sounds absolutely thrilling,” Merlin shot back, giving Arthur an unimpressed look. “I’m sure it’s very important work, but I don’t think you could pay me enough to manage accounts,” he wrinkled his nose. “Paperwork. Ugh.” 

Arthur laughed out loud. “All right then, what do you do?”

“I oversee a team of creatives, hand-crafting and supplying bespoke beverages to the bourgeoisie,” Merlin said haughtily. Arthur blinked, obviously not knowing what to make of it. Merlin spluttered, “Your face! I’m a team lead in an overpriced coffee shop. Doesn’t sound as important when I say it like that.” 

“I don’t know,” Arthur mused. “Your job probably is more important. Finance managers cannot function without coffee, as I’m sure you well know.”

“I most certainly do,” he said, shuddering and draining the end of his pint. “Speaking of, I’ve got a 7 a.m. start tomorrow. I’d better think about getting home.” Merlin stood, stretched. “Just nipping to the loo, lager goes right through me. I’ll come back and say bye before I leave.” Arthur just nodded, drinking the end of his as Merlin left the table.

Merlin was washing his hands when he heard the door open, not bothering to glance up. 

The next thing he knew was being bodily shoved into one of the empty cubicles and pressed up against the wall. This was the Arthur from before, and being manhandled by him went straight to Merlin’s cock. “Nice touch with the username, by the way,” he said with a smirk, knowing he had the upper hand, even with Arthur’s hands bunched in his t-shirt. 

“You’re such a fucking tease, aren’t you?” Arthur whispered harshly against his ear before sticking his tongue down it. Merlin registered somewhere in the back of his mind that it should be ridiculous, but the feeling of Arthur’s tongue in his ear only served to send a hot shiver through him, along with a thrill at the thought anyone could walk in at any moment. “You have no idea how hard I’ve been under that table, remembering what we did, and you were just sitting there like everything is fine.” 

Arthur moved his kisses along Merlin’s jaw towards his mouth, biting after each one before running his lips across Merlin’s stubble, making a noise low in his throat that Merlin felt rumble against his skin and raise the hairs on the back of his neck. He pulled his hand free where it was trapped between them and laced fingers through Arthur’s hair, pressing his head in gently to keep his mouth against Merlin’s skin. 

Arthur took the hint and licked along that sharp jawline before moving biting kisses down acres of smooth, pale neck, making that noise again when he tasted Merlin’s bare skin there. Merlin threw back his head against the cubicle wall, making the flimsy chipboard rattle. Arthur hushed him sharply, his breath hot against Merlin’s sensitive neck, which made Merlin’s hips jerk involuntarily. Arthur answered by pressing him further against the wall, his clothed cock pressed rigid against Merlin’s own. Arthur rutted against him once, twice, three times before he managed to get a hold on his lust, each time just not quite enough. Merlin wriggled beneath him, seeking more friction. Arthur relented, pushing a broad thigh between Merlin’s much slimmer ones, still mouthing at his neck. 

Merlin pressed down onto it as best he could with Arthur holding him fast, rubbing himself on Arthur’s thigh as if they were teenagers. Arthur indulged him for a few moments, sucking a livid mark into the unblemished column of Merlin’s throat, before stepping back enough that he could reach down to undo Merlin’s jeans and move aside his underwear so Merlin’s cock stood between them, precome beading at the dark-red tip already. “Fucking beautiful,” Arthur gritted out under his breath, swiping the tip of his forefinger across the head and holding it to Merlin’s lips. Merlin licked it at first, before putting his lips around Arthur’s finger and sucking lightly, wrapping his tongue around it, blue eyes full of intent. Arthur’s eyes darkened with want, and he pressed in his middle finger, pressing down on Merlin’s tongue lightly while Merlin sucked hard on them. 

Arthur gripped Merlin’s cock with his free hand, just holding it, not moving yet. Merlin keened even with Arthur’s fingers in his mouth and it echoed off the bathroom walls. Arthur withdrew his fingers then, pressing his whole hand over Merlin’s mouth to keep him quiet. Merlin glared at him, though his cock twitched against Arthur’s hand. 

Merlin’s breathing came harsh through his nose, gaze still locked on Arthur’s, cock still hard in his hand. Arthur narrowed his eyes slightly, telling Merlin silently to shut up before slowly lowering his hand. Merlin surged forward, catching Arthur’s mouth in a biting kiss. Arthur kissed back feverishly, Merlin letting himself moan into Arthur’s heated mouth. He moved his hips when Arthur kept a hand around him, bucking wildly and fucking Arthur’s fist. 

It was Merlin that broke the kiss for air, resting his forehead against Arthur’s, not slowing the movement of his hips. “Can’t resist you,” he whispered, barely audible. “Have to have you.” Arthur didn’t answer, tightened his grip instead and began moving his hand in time with Merlin’s hips. 

For long moments the only sound was Arthur’s hand on Merlin’s skin and their irregular breathing, seeming to cut through the empty bathroom. Merlin’s breath came in sharp, erratic pants as his pleasure began to build, heading towards the crescendo of coming. 

The creak of the door swinging open startled them both and they froze at the same moment. Arthur held a finger to his lips, squeezed the base of Merlin’s cock to stave off his orgasm. Merlin bit his own bottom lip against a moan, both men barely daring to breathe as they listened to the stranger outside their cramped walls. Merlin’s skin tingled, stomach flipping with nerves at the thought of being caught in here as well as with the scent of Arthur: a heady mix of clean sweat, expensive aftershave, and alcohol. 

Eventually the door banged again as whoever it was left and Merlin released the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. Arthur did much the same as before, ravishing Merlin’s mouth again with renewed fervour. 

When Arthur rubbed a thumb through the still-leaking precome at the head of his cock, Merlin’s orgasm crashed over him and he threw back his head again with a gasp, Arthur quickly putting two fingers back in his mouth against his tongue. Merlin sucked on them as he came, until a pleasant heaviness settled over his whole body. 

He reached lazily down to repay the favour, but Arthur shook his head. “No, just—I’m so fucking close.” He pushed against Merlin’s hip until Merlin pressed his leg between Arthur’s, moved it up a little so it would give him enough friction. Arthur went back to Merlin’s neck— “gorgeous, so fucking gorgeous,” — pressing more burning kisses right up behind Merlin’s ear as his hips moved in tight circles.His thrusts against Merlin’s thigh quickly became frantic until his whole body tensed and he whined against Merlin’s neck, face staying pressed there as he leant his weight on Merlin when his orgasm began to fade.

Merlin held him there loosely, idly running a hand through blonde hair again, rhythmic and soothing, until Arthur seemed to come back to his senses and he stood up, awkwardly clearing his throat. 

“Well,” he began, pausing for long moments as he tried to smooth down his mussed hair as best he could. “That should never have—”

Pressing a finger to Arthur’s lips, Merlin shook his head. “No, it shouldn’t have. But it did and you loved it. I suggest you do some thinking about that before you try to make a doomed relationship work. I won’t tell Gwen. But you should.” He didn’t even bother to say it wouldn’t happen again, both of them knowing that would just be another lie.   

He squeezed past Arthur to exit the cubicle and leave, letting the bathroom door bang on his way out. 

Chapter Text

Merlin had tried very carefully to put the handjob in a pub toilet out of his mind; it hadn’t exactly been his finest moment. That thought was further cemented when he’d met Gwaine for drinks the following weekend and regaled him with the story (leaving out the fact it was Gwen’s closeted boyfriend he’d been with). Gwaine had screwed up his face and said, “Oh dear, Emrys. Sounds like something I would do.” 

It didn’t seem to matter anyway; he hadn’t seen Arthur for almost a month since then. He was always busy when Merlin met up with Gwen, which Merlin did wonder about but Gwen explained he was busy when she wasn’t meeting up with Merlin too, that it was just part of being one of the higher-ups in a big company. Merlin could stand that, listening to her lamenting that she never got to see him. That wasn’t Merlin’s fault and it wasn’t like he was taking up Arthur’s time. No, he only felt guilty when they went out one Friday for cocktails, and after three strong ones, Gwen said, “I know you’re gay, babe, but is there something wrong with me? If you were straight, would I be unattractive to you?”

“Of course not! What on earth makes you think that?” 

“My boyfriend won’t touch me,” she sighed. “He’ll kiss me, but when I try to move it further he has some very plausible and polite reason why he can’t sleep with me, and I think he’s just sparing my feelings.” 

“Men are pricks, Gwen,” Merlin reassured her, feeling that on a very personal level. “It’s not you. It’s all on him, I guarantee it.” And then, because Merlin clearly hadn’t had enough of self-flagellation, he said, “Are you sure he’s not got someone on the side and that’s why?”

Gwen had taken it with surprising grace, probably due to the overly sweet alcohol in her system. “I don’t think so. I think I’d know. Plus, given how awkward he is with me sometimes, I don’t think he could have anyone else .” Merlin forced a giggle at that, taking a long drink from his glass. 

At home Merlin loaded Grindr again; he didn’t actually have Arthur’s number. He clicked to bring up his chat thread with BadDragon, their last message from when Arthur came over to his flat. Nevertheless, he typed “your girlfriend thinks she’s unattractive because you won’t sleep with her” and immediately closed it, deleted the app, didn’t want to know what the response to that would be. He knew fine well he’d have it redownloaded within the week, always did when he decided he’d had enough of casual sex, much to Gwaine’s amusement. 

Merlin had a very pleasant weekend, by all accounts. He met up with Percy on Saturday afternoon and they took the dog out on a long walk, stopping for coffee and spending a couple of hours catching up.  Merlin eagerly listened to stories about what ridiculous demands the high-end customers who hired Percy to design and put in their kitchens had made this week. Merlin had a shift at the coffee shop Sunday morning, far too early, so when he’d finished doing his laundry and tidying his flat he curled up on the sofa under the weighted blanket Gwen had bought him that had been a revelation in cosiness, and caught up on the soaps. 

 It was 9:30 when the knock on the door came, Merlin having spent the last half hour trying to gear himself up to get off the sofa and into bed. He dragged himself from under the blanket, not bothering to smooth his hair or hide his yawn as he opened the door, in a ratty old band t-shirt and garish pyjama bottoms, expecting Gwaine who often dropped by in the evenings when he’d lost his key. Again. 

“You need to keep better track of your things, Gwaine. This is ridiculous, you’re thirty-four,” he started as he opened the front door fully, stopping in his tracks when Arthur stood there. He was wearing what he clearly deemed as ‘casual’, though probably cost more than Merlin’s entire wardrobe. He wore a Ralph Lauren polo shirt and dark blue jeans with pristine white Nike trainers. “Um,” Merlin said, eloquently. 

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur hissed before Merlin could think of something coherent to say, stepping in without an invitation and backing Merlin up against the wall. Merlin could feel how hard Arthur was already as he held him in place by pressing their hips together. They kissed with all their usual fire, Arthur sucking on Merlin’s tongue and biting his bottom lip until Merlin gasped.

The picture frame beneath Merlin’s back was digging in, so he pushed forward, dragging Arthur towards the bedroom. They didn’t make it that far, Arthur throwing himself on the sofa and pulling Merlin down on top of him, their lips meeting again. “How dare you send me that message? And then fucking ghost me,” Arthur bit out when they broke apart again to breathe. 

The tiny protest at the back of Merlin’s mind was quickly silenced when Arthur’s teeth scraped against his neck. The curiosity, however, could not be. “What are you doing here?” Merlin managed, while Arthur was laving a nipple with his tongue. 

“Working my way up to fucking you.” Arthur’s voice vibrated against Merlin’s skin, the saliva on his now-exposed nipple making it cold and eliciting a shiver that ran all the way through him. 

Merlin sat upright, still on Arthur’s hips as he pulled the tattered t-shirt over his head.  “No, I mean—” 

“I know exactly what you mean,” Arthur snapped, running a hand over his face, still laid on one of Merlin’s cushions. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I’m just—I’m fucking stressed, all right?” With some finagling, Arthur pulled his polo shirt off without sitting up. “I tried to have sex with Guinevere.” 

That was all that needed to be said, and Merlin leant down to take his turn mouthing at Arthur’s chest, breathing in the now-familiar scent of Hugo Boss, laundry detergent, and Arthur. He bit down, lightly, on one of Arthur’s nipples, pinching the other between his thumb and forefinger, feeling the way it made Arthur’s hips buck, so he did it again for good measure. 

When Arthur’s thighs quivered from Merlin’s attention, he bit and sucked a livid mark just beneath his left pectoral, feeling the strong heartbeat beneath his lips. He soothed the reddened skin with soft kisses, not wanting to move away from the steady rhythm in Arthur’s ribcage. He was hard in his pyjamas though, his whole body taut with need, so, reluctantly, he gusted a sigh onto the patch of spit-wet skin and sat back on his hips, climbing off Arthur who groaned in protest. 

Merlin held up a finger to tell him one moment, kicking the gaudy pyjamas off and hurrying to the bedroom, digging in his drawer for his bottle of lube. When he returned to the sofa, Arthur was slowly stroking himself, his own expensive jeans crumpled in a pile on the floor. Merlin did not hesitate to resume his original position sitting on Arthur’s hips—much as he could have stood and watched Arthur masturbating all day. He pressed the lube into Arthur’s hand, leaning down to kiss him again, canting his hips so Arthur’s hard on nudged at his cleft. Arthur made a strangled noise and bit down hard on Merlin’s shoulder, which made Merlin hiss with a strange kind of pleasure-pain. 

“I couldn’t fucking get hard for her,” Arthur panted against Merlin’s shoulder. “I tried.” 

Merlin didn’t answer, because what on earth could he say? Arthur didn’t seem to be waiting for a response anyway, face pressed into Merlin’s chest where he lay on top of him. “So I thought I’d try what I did the night I met you. Went on Grindr. Arranged to go to this guy’s house. When—when I got to the street I couldn’t fucking do it. I turned around and I came here. And now I’m so fucking hard. ”

Merlin—god help him—said low in Arthur’s ear, “That’s right. You came to me.” A sick sense of possessiveness wound its way around Merlin’s throat, didn’t dissipate until he’d chased a trail of biting kisses along Arthur’s neck. “Now, you’re going to fuck me.” Arthur just nodded, coating clumsy fingers with the lube Merlin had brought and pressing one, then two inside him. Merlin groaned, pushed back onto them. The slight burn of going that little bit too fast set his nerves alight and he needed more, so much more. He didn’t know how to ask for it, so shoved his tongue into Arthur’s mouth carelessly, tasting him. Arthur gave as good as he got, sucking and nipping while he scissored the two fingers inside Merlin, coaxing him open. 

When Arthur added a third finger, something snapped inside Merlin and he sat upright, grinding his hips down and riding Arthur’s fingers as best he could. Arthur stared, despite the less-than-comfortable angle for his wrist; Merlin could feel the intensity of Arthur’s gaze, even with his own eyes closed. Something had changed between them. Merlin knew Arthur could feel it too. 

Arthur had chosen him, sought him out. 

The thought made Merlin’s cock twitch. Even the stab of guilt he felt was buried under the sheer rush of it.  

Merlin moved off Arthur’s fingers, though the loss of something inside him, filling him so sweetly, left him bereft and shivery. Arthur gave him a questioning look through eyes glazed with desire. Merlin smiled at him, moving slowly over the head of Arthur’s cock and sinking down onto it tortuously slowly, relishing every inch. It was not the first time he had taken Arthur of course, but he always found it felt deeper when he rode, and Arthur’s cock was impressive—even more than in the pictures on his profile. 

When he had all of it, Merlin stilled for a moment, sitting on Arthur’s hips and taking slow breaths while he adjusted to the feeling. Arthur’s hands were warm where they rested on his hips. He said nothing, did not goad Merlin as he had often done; waiting with him. Merlin closed his eyes to just enjoy it for long moments before rising slowly, not quite all the way off, and sinking back down with a quiet huff as he took it all again. 

“That’s it,” Arthur murmured, guiding Merlin’s hips back up, down again. Merlin allowed himself to be steadied by those sure hands, moving faster now. They quickly clicked into a rhythm, Arthur pushing up to meet Merlin’s downward thrusts. Merlin’s head dropped forward, hair that needed a trim and was starting to curl framing his face. 

A thin sheen of sweat shone on Merlin’s chest, his breathing coming hard as he didn’t break his rhythm, eyes meeting Arthur’s again and holding that blue-eyed gaze. Arthur worried his bottom lip with his teeth, not looking away either. They were silent but for their harsh breaths and the gloriously obscene sound of Merlin moving on Arthur’s cock. 

As he had the first time Arthur fucked him, Merlin lost track of time. He couldn’t have said whether he was there seconds or hours, floating on bliss. There was nothing but this, the pleasant ache in his thighs from the exertion, the slide of Arthur’s cock, his own overheated skin. Merlin felt his balls tightening, actually shaking his head. He slowed his movements and Arthur whined beneath him. 

With a smirk playing at his lips, Merlin leant down over Arthur’s chest again to whisper in his ear, “Come for me.” Arthur needed no persuasion, arms wrapping around Merlin’s back to anchor him in that position, Arthur’s hips driving hard into him. Arthur’s thrusts forced little huffs of breath from Merlin on each in, tickling Arthur’s ear and his sweat-damp hair. Merlin’s fingers dug into Arthur’s shoulders, short nails leaving crescent moons that faded as soon as he loosened his grip. Merlin grounded himself by tracing the rim of Arthur’s ear with his tongue until Arthur’s whole body tensed and he came, his arms tightening around Merlin. 

Merlin felt the heat of it inside him, a sensation he adored and hadn’t felt in too long, for a second before the realisation hit that he hadn’t even thought of grabbing a condom. He pushed the thought aside, his own cock trapped between them almost aching, diverting his attention. Arthur’s arms loosened enough that he could sit back up, Arthur’s cock still inside him as he settled into a comfortable enough position to put his hand around himself, stroking frantically with the need to follow Arthur over the edge. 

Arthur watched him, his eyes heavy-lidded and half-focused. Merlin threw back his head, back arching as he came hard, painting Arthur’s sculpted chest until he had no more. Still shaky with the aftershocks, Merlin moved off Arthur, allowing his cock to slip slowly out of him. Both of them winced at the slight soreness such enthusiasm brought, neither able to regret it. 

Merlin stood slowly, stretching seized up thighs tingling with overexertion. He didn’t speak, waiting for his heart rate and breathing to return to normal. “I’ll set you out a clean towel,” he said, not looking at Arthur as he headed into the bathroom, taking two towels from the clean laundry basket on his way. 

Standing under the warm shower spray, Merlin washed away sweat and come, tipping back his head and closing his eyes as he tried not to think about his best friend. He didn’t open them again when a warm back pressed against his own but he did lean back into it without thinking about it.  “We should have—” Merlin began, just to break the silence.

“I know, I know.” 

“Used a condom.” 

“Shit. We didn’t, did we? I’m clean. I haven’t slept with anyone since my last test other than you.” 

“What did you think I was going to say?”

“It doesn’t matter.” 

Merlin allowed Arthur that for now, opening his eyes at last to get the shampoo. Arthur took it from his hand instead, looking at him for permission. When Merlin nodded, Arthur squeezed some into his hand and lathered it in Merlin’s hair, massaging his scalp. It felt good, and Merlin allowed himself not to think for a blissful couple of minutes. 

Arthur ran the shower gel over Merlin’s torso next, hands firm and steady. Merlin half-wondered if Arthur’s hands would slide lower, or tease his nipples, but Arthur’s touch stayed chaste, though no less intimate for that. With Arthur here, Merlin could no longer pretend he hadn’t been waiting for Arthur to answer him somehow, to see him somewhere, to talk to him just for a moment—knowing that would always end in intense, electric sex. Yet now that he had Arthur here, and Arthur was cementing his place in Merlin’s thoughts, he drew on that knot of shame and guilt, trying to untangle it. To tear off the plaster, to get the hurt over with all at once. 

Merlin rested his head on the tile—cool, even with the hot shower running—and focused on Arthur scrubbing his back. “You need to tell her.” His voice echoed slightly where he was almost hiding his face. 

Arthur’s hands stilled on his back. 

“No, you do,” Merlin continued. “I won’t keep lying to Gwen and hiding things from her. She’s my best friend.” He swallowed hard. “Whatever this thing is between us, if you ever want it to be something real, then you need to come out.” Arthur’s feet squeaked on the bath as he got out of the shower abruptly, grabbing the towel. Merlin followed, taking the other and wrapping it around himself, following Arthur back into the living room, still dripping. “I know how hard it is. I know how it feels. I’m not expecting it to be now because god knows you can’t force it but—” He cleared his throat, hating himself a little more for the prickle of tears wanting to come, not even knowing why. “You need to do it one day. And you need to break up with Gwen even if you aren’t ready to come out yet.” 

Merlin watched Arthur pull his clothes on, saw the way his shirt stuck to his still-damp chest. Arthur paused in the hall doorway, one hand on the frame. He turned his head, illuminated in profile by the living room lamp. Merlin’s breath caught, throat tight as he took it in: the way Arthur’s hair fell when it was damp and had no product in, the perfect shape of his unique nose, his plush lips. “I know,” Arthur said simply. 

For one heart-stopping moment, Merlin thought Arthur would turn around and cross the chasm of the small living room back into his arms. Merlin closed his eyes for barely a moment to compose himself. When he opened them again, Arthur was gone. 

Merlin sat heavily on the sofa at the same moment his front door slammed.

Chapter Text

Merlin, once again, was determined to put Arthur out of his mind. He told himself, not for the first time, that it was pointless to wait for a man to be “ready” for a relationship, or to commit, or even to admit he was gay. He’d learned that over his numerous heartbreaks over the years. At least, he thought he had. 

Apparently the only thing he had learned was that he never learned. 

He didn’t see or hear from Arthur again for another week. By Thursday he’d stopped listening out in the evenings for a knock on the door. On Friday, he and Gwaine went out as usual, Merlin dancing until his legs ached. He didn’t go home with anyone though, despite all the interest he pretended he didn’t notice. It should have made him feel smug: he had his pick of gorgeous men who might actually want to see him again. But for some reason, he just couldn’t bring himself to put in the effort. 

He saw Gwen on Sunday, laid face down on her sofa with a heavy knot in his stomach, trying to figure out how he could put into words that he’d been sleeping with her boyfriend. Merlin knew it was cowardly but he said nothing, instead listening to her talking about the man who’d been into her bakery every day this week and had brought her flowers yesterday. Apparently, he’d admitted he didn’t really have a sweet tooth; he’d just wanted to see her. It wasn’t hard for him to find a genuine smile, glad she had found someone who deserved her. He and Arthur certainly didn’t. 

Monday brought rain. Merlin didn’t mind though, laid in bed for a while before he got up for work, just listening. The rain didn’t stop all day, and Merlin was more content than he had been over the weekend, standing at the window on his break with a cup of the overpriced coffee they sold. 

The knock he wasn’t listening for came when he was in the shower. He wasn’t sure he’d heard it at first, until it became an insistent banging. Gwaine, then. Muttering to himself, Merlin pulled on his dressing gown, hair wet as he opened the front door prepared to tell his friend exactly what he thought. 

Arthur stood there, soaked to the skin. His head was down, hair plastered to his forehead, and his shirt was almost see-through at the shoulders where he had no coat. 

“Fucking hell, if you think I’m letting you into bed like that …” Merlin joked as he stepped aside to let Arthur in—to cover his nerves, though the words died on his tongue when Arthur looked up and Merlin saw his features were obscured with a mask of livid claret. 

He wasn’t sure if the blood came from Arthur’s nose, mouth, or somewhere worse. 

Logically, Merlin knew it more than likely looked worse than it was, but his heart still sank, the edges of panic gnawing at his stomach—which only intensified when Arthur gripped his biceps there in the hallway. 

“I told my father. I told him I’m gay.”  Arthur’s voice was a little high-pitched, the laugh he gave a little manic. He shook Merlin just a little as he laughed. It still didn’t answer Merlin’s unspoken question about why Arthur had turned up at his door with his face covered in blood, but Merlin thought he could take a good guess. 

“All right, love,” he soothed, not even registering the pet name as he disentangled himself from Arthur who didn’t resist, grip falling away immediately. Merlin put a steadying hand on Arthur’s arm instead, guiding him through into the kitchen to sit at a dining chair. “Wait there one moment. I’m just going to fetch some things to get you cleaned up,” he said, hurrying to grab a t-shirt and jogging bottoms, as well as antiseptic wipes and a clean flannel. 

He sat with a bowl of warm water on the table in front of Arthur, who had his head down again, dipping the cloth before hooking a finger under Arthur’s chin and raising his head, oh so gently, so Arthur was looking at him. Merlin did not say a word as he ran the damp cloth over Arthur’s face, taking such care not to press too hard when he didn’t know where Arthur was hurt. 

He found the split lip soon enough, when, despite how gentle his ministrations were, Arthur hissed and flinched when Merlin ran the warm water over it. Merlin still said nothing as he cleaned the rest of Arthur’s face, before leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead—not sure how else to offer him comfort. 

Arthur’s breathing shook and he couldn’t meet Merlin’s eyes. He flinched again when Merlin cleaned his lip with the antiseptic wipes he’d brought. “Good as new,” Merlin said at last, with his best attempt at a smile. He pushed the clothes into Arthur’s hands. “You’re soaked. Go and put these on. I’ll get the kettle on.” 

Arthur nodded, went into the bathroom robotically, his movements stiff and dazed. Merlin put the kettle on and made two cups of strong, sweet tea. 

Merlin tried hard to ignore the way his heart stuttered in his chest at the sight of Arthur—forlorn as he was—wearing his clothes. He cleared his throat and put the tea on the dining table, resuming their positions. “Talk to me, cariad. Tell me.” Merlin spoke softly, using the endearment his mother always used to use—and still did whenever he called. 

Arthur took a sip of his too-hot tea, setting it down again carefully before he said anything. “We have—used to have dinner every week, Father and I. I didn’t even mean to say it. Wasn’t going to. Just—I thought about you and something made me do it, just blurt out that I’m gay. He didn’t say anything, just slapped me right—” Arthur cut himself off, swallowing hard as he gestured to his cheek. “His signet ring caught me, split my lip. I just left after that, but I did hear him say as I went that—that no son of his would be a homosexual.” 

Merlin didn’t say anything. After all, what could he say? Instead he stood, moved behind Arthur to lean down and put arms around him. Arthur made a quiet, strangled noise and wrapped both of his arms around one of Merlin’s, while Merlin rested his cheek in blonde hair. They stayed there, silently. Merlin watched the second hand on the kitchen clock make a circuit once, twice, until Arthur suddenly sobbed. Once that sob had broken free, it seemed he couldn’t stop, and Merlin pulled Arthur to his feet and into his arms properly, holding tight to him. 

“I’m proud of you, cariad,” Merlin murmured against Arthur’s ear where Arthur’s face pressed into his shoulder, muffling the tears that were clearly long overdue. It was true, and Merlin wanted to say more, though he still couldn’t seem to pick out the right words. It struck him how little time really he had known Arthur, but how much it felt like he truly knew him. Their past meetings had been nothing but hookups—intense, torrid hookups that each time had seemed to verge on something terrifying and ardent, but hookups nonetheless. Merlin recalled that moment, pressed together in a toilet cubicle: “ Have to have you.” He heard his own voice clearly in his mind, as if he’d spoken aloud again. 

Then there had been last time, on his sofa. The shift Merlin had been trying to pretend he hadn’t felt. He couldn’t deny that he wanted to weather this storm with Arthur—who had thought of him and come out to his father after a lifetime of repression. And here Arthur was, warm and solid in his arms, weeping out his years of hurt and confusion. Weeping for the approval he knew beyond a doubt he would never get from his father, yet which Merlin knew he could not help craving. 

And when Arthur had left, last time: “ If you ever want it to be something real, then you need to come out.” 

Merlin’s head spun. Then he realised he felt as grounded by Arthur as Arthur was by him. Arthur had told his father, had made that choice. Merlin could do no less. He had to tread carefully though; he could feel the tension in Arthur, how close he was to running again. Letting the last of his guard down was difficult given the absolute disaster his love life had been, but Merlin took a slow breath, thinking again of how brave Arthur was, and spoke quietly. “I want to help you, love. I want to take care of you and be with you, but I need you to want that too. I need you to be able to let me.”

Silence stretched on, Arthur evidently wrestling for some sort of control over himself. He straightened up, Merlin’s hand lingering in his hair, though it fell away when Arthur took a step back to put distance between them, clearing his throat and sitting at the table again, taking a long drink of lukewarm tea and grimacing. Merlin followed his lead and sat at his own seat, though he ignored his own half-full cup. 

“Do you see me running to anyone else’s door?” Arthur said carefully, voice rough. “I haven’t ruined my career and my relationship with the only parent I have left on  a whim. I didn’t sit for an hour last night writing a letter to my girlfriend—ex-girlfriend—because I thought I might want to be with you.” A hint of indignance coloured his words, a flash of his usual self though he couldn’t quite meet Merlin’s eyes and still looked too pale and worn out for Merlin’s liking. 

“Point taken,” Merlin said, couldn’t help but smile. “I think that’s … we need to talk about it.”

“Not now,” Arthur said, a plea Merlin heard clearly despite how level Arthur had managed to wrangle his voice. 

“Not now,” Merlin agreed, reaching out to take Arthur’s hand where it hung at his side. Arthur allowed it, and Merlin squeezed gently. “You look exhausted. Come to bed. We can look at things in the morning,” he said, despite it only just being ten p.m. It was testament to his weariness that Arthur didn’t argue, followed Merlin to his bedroom and climbed under the covers Merlin pulled back for him after kicking a couple of stray bits of laundry under his bed. 

“I’m just going to brush my teeth and stuff. I’ll be right back,” Merlin reassured Arthur, who didn’t move or acknowledge him. Despite it all, Merlin was glad for five minutes alone in the bathroom, gathering his thoughts as well as he could and practising his breathing exercises until the tautness that had crept into his muscles lessened slightly. 

He brushed his teeth and climbed into bed, Arthur having already turned off the lamp. Merlin hesitated for just a moment before sliding close, pressing himself along Arthur’s back. He felt Arthur tense for just a second before relaxing, almost sagging back against Merlin, who put his arms around him and held fiercely tight. 

Merlin waited, listening out for the telltale deepening of breathing that signified sleep. He’d almost drifted off himself when Arthur turned over in his arms so they laid face to face. As he had before, Merlin leaned in and pressed his lips to Arthur’s forehead. Arthur made a soft noise, so Merlin did it again before pressing feather-light kisses down Arthur’s regal nose and finally, chastely, to his full lips. “Try and get some sleep. Things can wait until morning,” Merlin whispered, pulling back to settle more comfortably on the pillow. 

He didn’t get that far before Arthur’s hand cupped the back of his neck. Merlin could feel how cold Arthur’s fingers were, and he wondered how long Arthur had been standing outside before he got the courage to knock. Merlin was pulled closer again, Arthur kissing him this time—still closed-mouthed but more insistent. Merlin allowed it for a few moments, Arthur deepening their kiss, opening his mouth into it, pressing his tongue into Merlin’s mouth. Merlin pulled back, nudging Arthur’s nose with his own as he spoke quietly into the dark, “Arthur, you don’t have to—”  

He felt rather than saw Arthur shake his head. Arthur pressed his face into Merlin’s neck, kissing so lightly that Merlin shivered and felt the goosebumps rise over his neck and chest. “I need it. Need you.” Arthur choked out, his voice quiet but firmly sure. 

“It can wait.” 

“Merlin, please.” Arthur’s voice sounded so urgent, so sure, that Merlin didn’t argue any further and sighed as Arthur kissed a feather-light trail up his neck and back to his lips. Merlin kissed back then, opening his mouth against Arthur’s, sucking on his tongue and pressing his own into Arthur’s mouth, tasting an ever-so-slight coppery tang lingering from earlier. Merlin recalled Arthur’s split lip with a jolt; he had been matching Arthur’s enthusiasm and heat without a thought for how sore it must be. He pulled back quickly, pressed a quick kiss to his cheek instead. 

“I’m sorry. Your lip …” 

Arthur answered by devouring Merlin’s mouth again, pushing him down and moving so Arthur lay on top of him, knees either side of Merlin’s hips and his hard-on pressing into Merlin’s own interested cock through the clothes that separated them.

They broke apart, gasping for air, and Merlin sat up enough to reach over to the bedside table to get the lube—deliberately not snagging a condom from the drawer this time. He pressed the bottle into Arthur’s palm, but he didn’t close his fingers around it the way Merlin expected. “I want—take me. Please.” Arthur’s voice was barely above a whisper, but Merlin heard him clearly; heard the embarrassment in his voice even after everything, the hesitation, the overwhelming feeling that he shouldn’t want this. Merlin nodded and reached back over to turn on his bedside light so he could see better, to see Arthur’s face, though he was stopped with a hand around his wrist. “Don’t. I can’t—”

Merlin heard that too: understood how much this took for Arthur to even admit he wanted to be taken—despite all they had already done—and that seeing was clearly too much this first time. He nodded, kissed Arthur softly—careful of Arthur’s lip even if he wasn’t taking care himself. They moved again, Merlin laying Arthur out on the mattress and kneeling between his legs.  Merlin couldn’t see much, even as his eyes adjusted to the dark, but he could feel the heat of Arthur’s arousal under his hands and mouth. He kissed a line along Arthur’s jaw, decisively. Moving his lips down to the neck of Arthur’s borrowed t-shirt, Merlin’s hands toyed with the hem, asking permission. At Arthur’s nod, he pulled it off over his head in one smooth movement before running his hands up Arthur’s muscled torso, as his mouth moved down, towards Arthur’s waistband. 

He sucked a mark just beside Arthur’s navel, unable to resist the taste of his skin. Merlin pressed another trail of kisses along the line of the borrowed joggers, fingers playing with the elastic—again asking Arthur’s permission without speaking—before pulling them down. His breath ghosted in a sigh against Arthur’s thigh when Arthur’s cock was freed, already standing and curving slightly towards his stomach, visible even without a light on. Merlin ran his tongue from balls to tip, not showing it any more attention despite Arthur’s quiet noise of pleased surprise. 

Merlin moved instead to kissing Arthur’s inner thighs, taking his time to press his lips to every inch of the firm muscle, running his fingers along the sparse hair he could feel but not yet see—though if he were to guess he’d put it at the same dark blonde as Arthur’s chest and pubic hair. 

Arthur’s hand brushed through his hair with insistent fingers, clearly hoping Merlin would do something other than kiss, though Merlin paid that no heed. When he had kissed Arthur’s thighs thoroughly enough to be satisfied, Merlin slid the borrowed trousers off and guided Arthur with gentle hands to bring up his knees and spread his legs. 

Kissing from Arthur’s knee upwards, Merlin grabbed a pillow and slid it beneath Arthur’s hips to raise him slightly and make sure he was comfortable too. Arthur was tense; whether that was from nerves or because Merlin was taking his time, Merlin didn’t know. He got his answer when Arthur made a noise of clear frustration as Merlin’s tongue ran along the crease of Arthur’s hip and thigh. 

“Do you trust me?” Merlin whispered, pulling back slightly so Arthur could hear him clearly. 

“Nobody else,” Arthur answered, honestly. Merlin felt a rush of affection at the thought of that, along with a sense of fierce protectiveness. 

“We can stop anything. At any time.” Merlin needed Arthur to know that, needed Arthur to know he was safe and always would be here with Merlin. He heard the soft brush of Arthur’s hair as he nodded against the pillow, accompanied by a light scrape of his nails on Merlin’s scalp. 

Merlin kissed the swell of Arthur’s arse cheek then, moving with intent towards the most private part of him. Arthur’s breathing came shallow in anticipation; Merlin could feel his stomach moving more quickly beneath his palm. “You don’t have to,” Arthur said, Merlin hearing in his voice that he was prepared for rejection. In answer, he ran his tongue to that space between Arthur’s balls and his waiting hole, hoping to quiet his doubts. 

When Arthur didn’t say any more, Merlin pressed the flat of his tongue to Arthur’s hole, eager as he tasted him. He was in no rush though, spending long minutes mapping out the cleft of Arthur’s arse alongside his entrance. When he pressed his tongue inside, Arthur made a shocked noise of absolute bliss , which set Merlin’s nerves alight. It was all the more intense for being unable to see each other, and having to go by touch alone. 

Merlin didn’t stop laving Arthur’s arse with his tongue, until Arthur’s thighs trembled, his back arched and he spoke hoarsely to the ceiling. “Please. So good. More. Please.” 

Merlin pulled back, sitting up as he said “I hear you, love, but I need to make sure you’re ready. I’m not rushing anything.” 

Arthur groaned at that, though he quieted when he heard Merlin pop the cap on the bottle of lube, gasping when Merlin’s finger pressed against his hole—though not inside yet—and he felt the cool wetness follow after a moment as Merlin pressed it in slowly and steadily, spreading the lube inside Arthur. 

Merlin added a second finger when Arthur had relaxed fully around the first, feeling his way. He curved them both upwards, smiling against Arthur’s hipbone when he found his prostate; feeling Arthur’s whole body jerk with the sensation. 

Merlin moved his fingers out slowly, almost all the way before pressing them in again and back up against Arthur’s sweet spot. He heard the catch in Arthur’s breath and repeated the movement, prepared to do this for as long as it took for Arthur to be ready. Arthur obviously had other ideas; he whined, he wriggled his hips trying to take Merlin’s fingers deeper, he tugged lightly at Merlin’s hair to try and encourage him. 

Eventually, Merlin slid in a third finger. Arthur made a strangled noise; moving down as best he could despite his inexperience. Merlin could hear the way he breathed carefully, knew the stretch of three digits could be a lot. He moved himself up Arthur’s body—keeping his fingers in place—and kissed him softly on the lips, still mindful of where it might hurt. 

Arthur relaxed bit by bit, finally stretched enough for Merlin to feel comfortable, and he withdrew his fingers. “I didn’t get a condom. Do you want me to?” Merlin had to ask, wanting Arthur to know he had the option. 

“No,” came the whisper in his ear, paired with the softest bite to Merlin’s earlobe. Merlin moaned, softly; his ears had always been sensitive. 

Merlin felt around for the bottle again, finding it and applying some liberally to the three fingers he had had inside Arthur, working them back in to make sure Arthur was properly slick. Without the light on it was harder to cover his own wanting cock, but he managed with only a little spillage. He found Arthur’s hole with his fingers again, so he knew where to position himself. 

With his brow furrowed in concentration—which thankfully, Arthur couldn’t see—he pressed in just the head of his bare cock, slowly, guided by his fingers. He shifted himself to press his chest to Arthur’s then, wanting to be close. Merlin heard Arthur’s shallow breathing close by his ear again, kissing Arthur calm while straining with the effort of keeping still. 

“In. Please. More.” Arthur’s words were clipped and he used no more than necessary, but they sounded confident. Arthur knew what he wanted; Merlin didn’t doubt that for a second. 

Merlin moved his hips steadily—taking more care than he needed, he knew that—and moaned again when he bottomed out. In the dark everything felt amplified, Merlin realised, as his entire body tingled with the feeling of it. He couldn’t help but wish that he could see the way Arthur looked around him, where their bodies joined. It was a small price to pay though, for being able to do this. 

Merlin shifted his hips experimentally. Arthur winced and Merlin kissed his forehead with a whispered apology, changed his angle and felt the difference immediately: Arthur’s legs falling open even further and his hands clutching Merlin’s shoulders. There. Merlin moved slowly, keeping the same angle on every thrust, burying his face in Arthur’s neck just because he could, tasting the salt of his skin where it was sheened in sweat. He kissed, licked, nipped down his neck and collarbones; spending an inordinate amount of time mapping the latter with his tongue before his mouth found Arthur’s nipples. Merlin sucked hard as he moved his hips, rewarded with huffs of breath and Arthur’s free hand holding him firm there. 

His own hands were occupied; one of them laced between Arthur’s, holding tight and grounding them both. The other traced patterns into Arthur’s lower abdomen, teasing. Again, Merlin could feel the heat of Arthur’s arousal, radiating from the flushed dark skin of his cock. It was intoxicating, and Merlin had to hold himself back from taking tight hold of it. 

They quickly found the way they fit together, Arthur moving to meet Merlin in perfect sync. Merlin hadn’t been like this the first time he’d slept with anyone else, didn’t think he’d actually fallen into something so seamless before. The thought terrified and exhilarated him all at once.

Merlin rested his forehead on Arthur’s chest, breathing hard. His breath was warm on Arthur’s nipple, wet and raised in a stiff peak from his earlier ministrations and Arthur shivered on each exhale. The same heat was building at the base of his spine and he could feel his balls tightening already, so he moved his hand that had been running along the line of Arthur’s hips, wrapping fingers around Arthur’s beautiful cock, though it was still a barely-there touch. 

As he got closer, his grip tightened on Arthur, stroking him properly. Arthur sighed in relief, actually gasping when Merlin ran a thumb over the head. It sent a jolt of pleasure through Merlin’s body and he did it again, moving his hips and hand in sync until there were no thoughts left in his head to focus on and worry about, hoping Arthur felt the same. 

“Arthur. I’m close. You need to tell me—”

“Inside me.” 

Merlin couldn’t help a ragged, devastated groan at the permission, his orgasm winding its way through his entire being after another two thrusts. Merlin tensed, let the fire of it roar through his bones, felt nothing but the all-consuming pleasure and Arthur’s sweaty palm against his where their hands still joined. He could have sworn his vision whited out for a split second, coming back to his senses with his now-stalled fist closed around Arthur’s leaking cock and his damp forehead still resting on Arthur’s firm pectoral. 

Merlin raised his head, meeting Arthur’s eyes. Though he couldn’t see the blue of them in the low light, he could still see them shine. He kissed Arthur hard, couldn’t find it in himself to worry about making Arthur’s lip sore now, not when Arthur matched it with ferocity. Merlin gathered himself enough to strip Arthur’s cock, knowing it wouldn’t take long. 

It felt like no time at all before Arthur’s kisses became more uncoordinated and he was panting into Merlin’s mouth. Merlin felt the hot stickiness coat his hand, Arthur’s breaths coming harshly. He didn’t stop stroking him, wringing every drop of pleasure he could until Arthur was shaking. 

Merlin collapsed onto the bed beside him then, shuffling close to lie in the afterglow together. The room was silent but for the sounds of Merlin’s flat around them, tiny noises Merlin noticed anew while waiting for Arthur to do something. He heard the drip of the bathroom tap he’d not quite turned off, the hum of the fridge, the creak of a floorboard upstairs. 

Finally, Arthur disentangled himself from Merlin and went through to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Merlin grabbed a wipe from his drawer to clean off his hand and laid waiting for Arthur to come back, almost holding his breath wondering if Arthur would. 

Not five minutes later, Arthur came back into the bedroom, disappointment rising in Merlin’s chest when he put the jogging bottoms and t-shirt back on, though it evaporated in an instant when Arthur climbed back into bed, still silent. Merlin shuffled close again, sliding his arms around Arthur and holding tight to him, pressing what Merlin hoped were soothing kisses into the hollow behind Arthur’s ear. With the arm over Arthur’s waist, Merlin found Arthur’s hand again and took hold. His palm was damp and cold from washing it, not the warm clamminess of sweat. Arthur’s breathing was slow and even—relaxed and content, unless Merlin was very much mistaken. 

“Goodnight, cariad,” Merlin whispered. 

Arthur didn’t answer, though he raised Merlin’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, just once.